Getting to Accepted Student Weekend

With the first accepted student weekend coming up, some of you might be a little nervous about possibly coming to Carleton for the first time (I know I was), so I thought I would share the story not of my accepted student weekend, but of the hours spent getting there. My hope is that you enjoy this look into the nonsense that defines my life, and that your trip to Carleton is less “eventful” than mine.

My trip started out flying from New York to a connection in Philadelphia, which would take me to Minneapolis, but what I should start out by saying is that flying from New York to Carleton was the first time I was ever on an airplane. Surprising, I know, but it had just never happened before. And while I was not particularly frightened by flying, the newness of it all did freak me out a little bit. Wanting to assuage my worries, the airline decided that my first flight should be on what might be the least impressive plane they could drag out of the hanger. Small and a dull grey-beige, it looked more like a old van than the machine that would carry me 40,000 feet in the air. To top it all off, the weather was less than ideal, so my mother and I spent the flight within a mass of clouds getting battered around by the wind. Thankfully the flight was only 45 minutes long, but upon landing I came rather close to saying, “nevermind, I’m going to college within driving distance.” Fortunately I did actually get on the flight to Minneapolis, which was much less windy, much less terrifying, and dispelled any fears of flight I might have had.

But the fun didn’t end there. The little shuttle plane I took to Philadelphia did not check baggage in the usual way. Instead, we took our bags to the runway, they were placed in the storage area of the plane, and then we picked them back on the runway after landing. As it turns out, this can lead to complications, something we did not realize until we had reached Minnesota. In the hotel, my mom opened up the suitcase we had brought-the one which held all of our clothes-and saw that it did not contain any of our clothes, as it was not our suitcase, just one that looked a lot like it. Following the initial moment of processing this mishap, which for me is a moment of blind and irrational rage, we called the airline and there were not particularly helpful. In the end, the following day, which was supposed to begin at Carleton, began with a drive to the airport to give the airline the suitcase, followed by a trip to the Mall of America to get some replacement clothes. After that, we did actually get to Carleton, which, thankfully was a wonderful experience.

This story ends with the return to New York. We had to get up at 4:30 in the morning to catch what must have been the only available flight that did not include and unreasonable long layover, and then we were back. But, before we could leave the airport, we had to speak with airline customer service in order to get our lost suitcase back. Unfortunately, it was in Philadelphia, not New York, a fact that did not come out until after almost an hour of waiting. But then it was over, we went home, and, a few weeks later, did get our suitcase back.

That’s my story of travelling to Carleton for the first time. I hope you all enjoyed it, someone might as well get something out of my inconvenience.

David is a sophomore from New York City who had an unexpectedly hard time finding a picture of himself to add to this biography. He is leaning towards Philosophy as a major, but we will see if that is still the case come Spring. When not being inept at using a computer, he enjoys writing and playing Ultimate Frisbee. Check back in the coming weeks to see if he ever finds more pictures of himself, amongst other adventures. Read on to meet the rest of our bloggers.